The fight on the other side of the battlefield had a far more heated pace, with heated being the perfect word to describe it.
Khan had lost count of how many times he had burned, both outside and inside. Those torturous exchanges had become so common that he should have grown numb to them, but the pain always felt new and terrible.
To make things worse, there was no way around it. Whenever Khan tried something, a miniature star would be waiting for him, immediately exploding in all its scorching radiance.
And Khan could endure it. His cells and crackling mana kept his body in one piece, shielding his vital insides, protecting him, and allowing him to continue fighting. Yet, the pain wasnât something he could avoid or fend off.
The superficial layers of Khanâs skin never remained intact for long. The surrounding heat was too unbearable, burning them, only for Khanâs inhuman healing properties to kick in.
That fixed Khanâs skin, regrowing its superficial layers, only to leave them at the mercy of the scorching heat again. Purple-red sparks flashed all over his body, but that protection couldnât stop those burns.
Breathing worsened that torture. The air was lava, and each breath Khan managed to take ended up burning his lungs, extending his seemingly never-ending pain.
However, Khan endured everything and kept fighting. Pain couldnât make him stop. The nightmares had forged his mind in ways ordinary people couldnât even begin to comprehend. He also had the best body in the universe, so his reckless assault continued.
Blinding light never stopped shining around Khan, making him virtually blind, but following his senses always brought him toward his target.
The cloud was busy dealing with some of the Makerâs stars, so Khan released gales of purple-red energy from his figure to cut his way through the scorching light, summoning more mana during his advance.
The gales of crackling chaos devoured the light while lightning bolts formed inside Khanâs palms. The latter fully materialized by the time he cut through the sea of ethereal fire, but his opponent awaited him wearing the same unperturbed, curious smile.
Several exchanges had already unfolded, so the scene didnât surprise Khan. He didnât even hesitate when seeing that the Maker wielded two identical but black lightning bolts. That wasnât his first time replicating Khanâs techniques, and the same went for the clashâs outcome.
Khan threw his lightning bolts, and the Maker copied him. The four spells clashed in mid-air, generating crackling spheres that thundered through the area and expanded, pushing away the light from the previous exploding stars.
And, just like before, the black sparks outnumbered the purple-red ones. They were also thicker, denser, and louder, carrying far more energy that was arranged in a far better way.
Once again, that didnât surprise Khan. The previous exchanges had already proven that undeniable point. When it came to spells, he was inferior to the Maker.
That inferiority had nothing to do with the True Chaosâ superiority over the mana. Khanâs chaos had no such weakness.
The issue didnât even involve the amount of energy used. The Maker did have access to a whole world of True Chaos, but Khanâs mana reserves were pretty much bottomless, so he could theoretically match him.
Yet, no matter how much mana Khan poured into his attacks, his spells always lost the confrontation, and the reason boiled down to sheer finesse.
The Maker was a true master. His ability to manipulate the True Chaos didnât border on the divine. It actually belonged to that realm since he had inherited it from a proper God, and his spells reflected that unmatchable mastery.
To add value to the Makerâs performance, he even cast his spells only after Khan had completed his. After all, the alien couldnât copy what he couldnât see or sense, meaning he could create far better attacks in less time.
It also didnât matter what the nature of Khanâs spells was. He had tried lightning bolts, fire, violent gales of mana, and even simple beams. Still, the Maker could match them all and overpower them, as if his mastery knew no limits.
In a way, the Maker embodied what Khanâs chaos was supposed to be better than him, which made sense. As the son of a God and heir to that aspect of his divinity, the Makerâs True Chaos already stood beyond fire and water, beyond life and death.
Of course, that superiority didnât make Khan powerless. He actually had a couple of points where he had the Maker beaten.
The expanding spheres of destructive sparks soon turned pitch-black, overwhelming the purple-red color and exploding into torrents of True Chaos.
Nevertheless, the Maker had to disregard that magnificent detonation to swing an arm to his left, blinding True Chaos gathering in his open palm.
A fuming figure materialized in front of the blinding palm. Khan had exploited the opportunity created by the lightning boltsâ clash to lunge directly at the Maker, only for him to react to his speed.
That wasnât a surprise, either, but what followed was. The Maker had gotten used to Khanâs speed, so no afterimages formed in his vision. However, time slowed down in his scarlet eyes as his perception went overboard to study the next event.
A scene that the Maker lacked the physical capabilities to react to unfolded in his vision. Khan rose as the miniature star started exploding, his figure matching the detonationâs pace, allowing him to step on it.
Then, the Makerâs vision went dark. His eyes still worked, but something hard and heavy had covered them, unleashing enough strength on his face to push him back.
The starâs explosion flooded the area with its light at that point, but two figures quickly came out of it, rising into the air.
The Maker rearranged the scorching radiance that surrounded him, turning it back into True Chaos that lingered over his figure while flowing toward the crack on his forehead.
Meanwhile, purple-red lights flashed at some distance from the Maker, dispersing the blinding light to reveal a charred, fuming figure. Khan was scorched all over, but enough of his skin regrew to complete his faint smile.
"You do bleed then," Khan chuckled, watching as the True Chaos fixed the faint wound on his opponentâs forehead.